


A Little Something

by mautadite



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mautadite/pseuds/mautadite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I just saw Johnny and Jakes kissing,” Mike says, no bullshit, no preamble. “Kissing with tongues. In the bathroom. They were wearing clothes but it didn’t look like they were too invested in keeping them on.”</p><p>Charlie, for her part, doesn’t even turn around. Mike can see her face in the mirror as she brushes her hair, and it looks ten times less surprised and concerned than he would expect. </p><p>“Yeah,” she says finally, reaching for her foundation. “That’ll happen sometimes.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Something

**Author's Note:**

> After I finished Graceland, I immediately went looking for Johnny/Jakes. There was none, so I did something about that. This is pretty light-hearted, low on plot, and I didn't mention many canon events, so the timeline is just about 'early in Season 1'. Enjoy. :)

When Mike gets back to Graceland at dear god o’clock in the morning and sees Johnny laughing his way out Jakes’ room, he doesn’t think much of it. Jakes’ voice is right behind him, threatening that if he ever comes back in he’ll do something creative with a parrot in each of Johnny’s orifices. Johnny makes a kissy face through the door before it slams in his face, and Mike figures it was just another one of his silly pranks. He’d probably be snarling too if anyone ambushed him in his room at this hour.

He holds up his hand to return Johnny’s high five, misses and catches him on the shoulder, and grumbles good-naturedly through the subsequent laughter and hair ruffling. Then he trudges to his room, strips down, and faceplants into bed.

~~~

Only in the morning does it occur to Mike to wonder why Johnny was only wearing his boxers.

There’s probably an explanation for that.

~~~

“I’m just sayin’, if you can’t appreciate what Fat Joe’s done for the industry, you can’t appreciate life, son.”

Johnny is listening to music in the den; the deep bass can practically be felt through the walls. Mike walks in with his bowl of cereal and sees that Jakes is there too, perched on the couch with an open file in his lap and seemingly barely paying Johnny any attention at all. He doesn’t take his eyes off his reading when he replies.

“Not asking you to justify your music choices Johnny, just telling you to get some goddamn earphones.”

“I lost mine.”

“So find them.”

“Nah bro, like I _lost ‘em in the ocean_ lost ‘em.”

Jakes finally looks up from the report. Mike, scooping cereal into his mouth and letting the escaping milk trickle back into the bowl, ruminates on how grateful he is not to be the recipient of the look that he levels at Johnny. Johnny, however, seems delighted at the new-gotten attention; he curls his legs under himself and adjusts the volume of the radio with one hand.

“I don’t know,” Jakes says slowly, “and nor do I care what you were doing with your earbuds offshore—”

“Yo, it’s not like—” 

“ _I don’t care_ ,” Jakes repeats, loudly and firmly. Mike chews quietly. “Nor do I know or care what the Bureau actually pays you clowns to do your job, but you honestly gonna sit there and tell me you can’t drop a couple bucks for a new pair of earbuds?”

Johnny gives a long suffering sigh, but Mike can tell he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“See, man, it ain’t even about that. Earbuds wouldn’t cut it. There’s no way you can truly and fully appreciate the beauty of leaning back without surround sound. It’d actually be pretty selfish to deprive you all. You know I don’t play that, Jakes. I’m a giver.”

“I’ll _give_ you a black eye.”

“Ooh, baby don’t sweettalk me like that, the kids are at home.”

“Johnny, I swear to god…”

And back and forth they go. In the past few weeks, Mike’s gotten pretty good at reading and feeling out the dynamics in the house, and he knows that this is normal for them, but it’s pretty intense. He’s aware that they know he’s there, chewing quietly on his breakfast, but other than a wink from Johnny and a blank glance from Jakes, neither of them acknowledges him. Mike’s pretty cool with that.

It does occur to him to ask why Jakes simply doesn’t get up and go to his room if the music bothers him that much, but he’s kept his head on his neck so far, despite the best laid plans of dealers and lowlifes, and he wants to keep it that way. It’s a gorgeous day outside. He deposits his stuff into the sink, calls out a goodbye that he’s not entirely sure that they hear, and heads out back.

~~~

“I hope you two signed a pre-nup,” Paige says, and Mike laughs along with everyone else (sans Jakes) as miniature pancakes start flying. Johnny ducks and laughs.

Later, there are only four of them along for the ride as they head to the bar. Mike understands Jakes taking a reign check, but Johnny is always spearheading the call to get their throats wet on a Friday afternoon, especially after a week like the one they just had.

“They’ll show up sooner or later,” Briggs assures him. “Always do. They just need some space to get their shit sorted out, you know?”

Everyone’s shit had seemed pretty sorted when they left home, so Mike doesn’t actually know, but he nods anyway, like he understands.

~~~

He understands for real one morning when he walks into bathroom and gets an eyeful of Jakes crowding Johnny against the tile, fingers digging bluntly into his hips. Johnny is slumped on the wall, taking a few inches off of his height so that they’re evenly matched as they kiss, slow and completely involved in one another. When they pull away, it’s for Johnny to dot Jakes’ cheeks and beard with shotgun kisses, mumbling pleasurably in Spanish. Jakes speaks, and his voice is like a little earthquake, warning Johnny not to tug on his dreads too hard. And then they’re kissing again, hard little sounds escaping their mouths, possessiveness and tenderness jostling for dominance.

Mike doesn’t even think they hear him stumble out.

~~~

He says ‘okay’ to himself a lot of times, and then makes a beeline straight for Charlie.

“I just saw Johnny and Jakes kissing,” Mike says, no bullshit, no preamble. He plops down onto her bed without an invite, but he thinks he’ll be forgiven. “Kissing with tongues. In the bathroom. They were wearing clothes but it didn’t look like they were too invested in keeping them on.”

Charlie, for her part, doesn’t even turn around. Mike can see her face in the mirror as she brushes her hair, and it looks ten times less surprised and concerned than he would expect. 

“Yeah,” she says finally, reaching for her foundation. “That’ll happen sometimes.”

Mike stares at her back.

“That’ll happen sometimes…?” he repeats.

“Yeah, it’s a thing.”

“It’s a thing…?”

Mike has a feeling that Charlie thinks she’s making sense to him, but everything is either getting lost in translation or flying straight over his head. It at least gets her to throw him a look over her shoulder, pursing her lips amusedly.

“Yes, it’s a thing, Mikey. Use your big boy words, stop parroting everything I say.”

“But…” Mike struggles. “Johnny and Jakes. Seriously? But they’re always so…”

“Johnny and Jakes-y?” Charlie dabs at her cheeks. “Yeah, I know. Sometimes they bicker like overgrown children, and sometimes they resolve matters by taking it to the sheets instead of to the streets.”

She’s so calm and matter-of-fact about it. Still mildly reeling, Mike rubs his hand through his hair briskly. 

“And does everyone know about this, or…?”

Charlie laughs. “It’d be hard not to, sweetie. No secrets in Graceland, remember?” She turns, and jabs her applicator brush at him. “One time, I went to visit Johnny with a bottle of Johnny and made the mistake of not knocking before I went in. There was a lap-sitting situation going on.”

“Wow. Wow, okay.” Mike cups his chin in his hand. “Sounds kinda serious.”

“Ehh, I don’t know about that,” Charlie returns, making a little face. “It _is_ Johnny and Jakes after all.” She turns back to the mirror, and turns her attention to her eyebrows. “But it’s definitely a thing.”

~~~

A thing.

Well, alright. Unexpected, but on the Graceland scale of things, it’s pretty tame and pretty benign. Mike can handle tame and benign.

~~~

A couple days later, he jogs tiredly into the kitchen just in time to bid Johnny and Paige a quick goodbye. Johnny is giving Paige an assist on a DEA bust, and he’s in a good mood as usual, passing around the kitchen for a last round of high fives. Jakes and Mike are the only ones there, however, and he gets a baleful look from the former and some half-hearted skin from the latter. Johnny tsks.

“I expect a lot better from you two when we return victorious,” he admonishes. Jakes throws an apple at his head, and he catches it and takes a grinning bite before Paige drags him out by his ear.

It’ll be a few minutes more before Mike feels human enough to face the mountain of paperwork he has waiting upstairs for him. In the interim, he gets himself a glass of milk and sits at the counter with the ingredients for a ham sandwich. Jakes has his reading glasses on and is perusing the morning papers, and for a while, it’s all easy silence, the clink of cutlery, and the rustling of pages.

“So,” Mike says as he spreads mustard on a slice of bread, just to pass the time. “You and Johnny, huh?”

It happens as if in slow motion; Jakes puts his paper down on the counter, looks up very slowly and stares at him. Mike suddenly has a lot of regrets.

“You forgot to finish your sentence, Mike,” Jakes says calmly. “Me and Johnny _what_?”

Mike puts his knife down, and picks it up again. He’s pretty good at controlling his micro-expressions, but on the inside, he is really confused.

“You know. You and Johnny. I’m sorry about the other day, by the way, I didn’t mean to burst in on you guys like that. I just didn’t realise before, you know, that you are Johnny are…”

He trails off, because Jakes is sporting the kind of look that strongly advises against saying whatever he might be about to say. Mike hasn’t gotten very many ‘shut up Mike’ looks in his life, but he knows one when he sees it. Instead, he gurgles a little, and makes do with an essentially meaningless hand gesture. Jakes looks satisfied, and he turns his attention back onto the paper. His latest customs gig is on the front page.

“You did it again, Levi,” he says absently. “How am I supposed to know what you’re talking about if you won’t finish your sentences?”

Mike stares.

“I… sorry? Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I guess I just… sorry, I thought…”

He never finishes that sentence either. Jakes doesn’t seem too interested in what the tail end of it might be; he ignores Mike until his bewildered stuttering dies out, and focuses his attention on the paper. 

Mike makes and eats his sandwich in pensive silence.

~~~

“And I don’t know, I guess I just thought that since everyone knew, and since they were making out in communal areas and stuff, that he wouldn’t mind me casually bringing it up…”

Paige jumps, snatching the ball out of the air, and levels Mike with her sternest look. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, though; the sun catches and reflects in the blues.

“You’re forgetting that the Dale Jakes who’s slipping it to Johnny is still the same Dale Jakes we all know and love to see ticked off. Of course he didn’t give you anything.”

Mike catches her next throw easily, bracing himself in the sand, but barely even registers doing it.

“It’s not even that he didn’t give me anything. He wouldn’t even acknowledge the possibility that they were a thing.”

“What? Who told you Johnny and Jakes were a thing?”

“Charlie said they were a thing.”

“Oh. Well, she probably meant that they had _some_ thing, not a _thing_ thing.”

Mike throws his hands up, and tucks the ball beneath one arm.

“Are you listening to yourself right now? On what planet does that make even one iota of sense?”

“On what planet does anyone even say _iota_?” Paige teases. She runs up and snatches the ball away from him while he’s still looking skyward. “Stop worrying about it, Mikey. They’re big boys, and they both know what they want and what they’re doing.” She reaches up and noogies him gently against the temple. “Trust me. You’re overthinking it.”

~~~

Perhaps he _is_ overthinking it. 

And it really isn’t any of his business. 

~~~

But honestly, if it’s _not_ a thing, then they’re both doing a pretty poor job of keeping it that way.

Jakes growls at Johnny that he doesn’t want to see how his goddamn Russian scar is coming along, but then takes hold of his forearm to look at it anyway, one hand cupping his wrist, the other cupping his elbow. His voice is softer and gruffer when he tells Johnny to go get himself some Mederma. 

They get into a fight, and next morning when Johnny is making pancakes, there’s only a short stack of square ones waiting for Jakes (“To match your little square heart, man. You like?”) but they’re also the only ones with blueberries baked right into them, and Johnny passes Jakes the syrup without being asked.

Mike’s taken to being a little extra vigilant, and it’s honestly the only reason why he doesn’t walk in on them at least twice again; once in Johnny’s room, once behind the bar. One time, he even catches them playing (a pretty violent match of) footsie under the kitchen table for Christ’s sake. It’s freaking adorable.

~~~

(He doesn’t say that, not to anyone.)

But in any case, he’s pretty sure they’re in thing territory by now, at least. Someone should tell them.

~~~

Briggs laughs, throwing his head back. Mike can see his molars.

“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” he says, shaking his head and taking a swig of Jakes’ milk, right from the carton. “Are you out of your mind? Of course you shouldn’t tell them. What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs all the way up to his room.

~~~

Alright. Maybe not.

~~~

So Mike leaves it alone for a spell, because it’s the polite thing to do, but then an opportunity to talk to Johnny about it presents itself and he realises that Johnny is the only person in Graceland he _hasn’t_ spoken to about it. It can’t hurt. It would also probably be polite to let him know that he knows, you know?

“Oh yeah man, sure I know that you know,” Johnny says, clapping him on the back. “I saw your whiteness reflecting off the mirror that time in the bathroom.”

They’re sitting together a little ways off from the bonfire, perched on a rock, and everyone turns to glance at them when Mike laughs out loud. Jakes in particular squints suspiciously before he tunes back in to Paige’s story. The glow of the fire doesn’t quite reach their spot, but Mike can still see Johnny’s amusement.

“Yeah, I should have figured that trained federal agents couldn’t have missed me stumbling in like that, no matter how focused they are on, uh… on…”

“On making out?” Johnny laughs again, swigging from his beer. “Yo man, you can say it, not like I’m gonna bite your head off. I’m not Jakes with you here.”

Mike huffs, smiling.

“Yeah, I guess not. Though I can’t really fault him for figuratively closing in on my neck that one time; I did sort of…”

“Boldly go where it wasn’t your business to go?” Johnny chuckles again as Mike turns a little redder. “You gotta understand, private doesn’t even begin to cover it where Jakes is concerned. Dude’s like a hermit crab. A levelled up Grinch. He knows you can see his house up on the hill there, but don’t come knocking.”

Taking a sip of his drink, Mike wades through the metaphors. “So… he doesn’t care that the rest of us know, we just shouldn’t talk to him about the fact that we know?”

Nodding, Johnny knocks back the rest of his beer. Over at the bonfire, Jakes is bending over the cooler in search of another drink.

“You got it.” Johnny burps, and gives his mouth a backhanded swipe. “Hell, we don’t do that much talking ourselves, you know?”

Judging by his friend’s suddenly dirty grin, yeah, Mike can guess. He chuckles along with him, and hesitates a bare moment before his next question. 

“And you’re cool with that?”

“Me? Hell yeah.” He shrugs. “It’s a thing, but it’s not like a _thing_ thing, you know?”

“Oh, okay,” Mike says, and watches with furrowed brows as he follows Johnny’s gaze to Jakes’ ass, still bent over the cooler.

~~~

The next night, Jakes pulls one of his disappearing acts while they’re in the midst of hanging out, and Johnny falls asleep on the couch waiting up.

The week after that, Johnny leaves the bar with a girl on each arm, and Jakes promptly becomes unbearable to be around.

 _It is such a thing thing_ , Mike thinks, shaking his head.

~~~

“You know what your problem is?” Charlie asks, kicking her legs up into Mike’s lap. She leans back against the other end of the couch, and he smiles, taking the not so subtle hint to start rubbing.

“I’ve got a few, and I have a feeling you’re about to add to the list,” he says wryly. 

“Damn right. Your problem is that you’re too nice. Too helpful. Too sweet.” She jabs her yoghurt spoon at him with every adjective. “You see a potential disaster like Johnnycakes happening in front of you, and you just can’t help yourself, you wanna make sure it all turns out okay.”

“Johnnycakes?” Mike grins, pressing his thumbs into her instep.

“You know, Johnny, Jakes, Johnny likes to make pancakes, Jakes eats ‘em.” Charlie sees Mike stifling his laughter, and pokes him in the stomach with a toe. “But I digress. They’re adults, even if, like most men, they don’t act like it all the time. I’m not saying that what they’ve got going right now is healthy, or that they won’t have to sit down and actually talk about it like human beings in the future.”

“The near future, hopefully,” Mike can’t help himself from putting in. 

“No, stop that,” Charlie admonishes. “You just got to let it play out. They’ll get hit with the clue bat sooner or later. In the meantime, you my friend, have got to ease up.”

Mike sighs, hearing the truth in her words. There are so many reasons for Johnny and Jakes to navigate their relationship (if they’d even call it that) in the way they do, and he, being on the outside peering in, can’t really claim to understand. And in Graceland, they’re family (no matter what Jakes says). Families work stuff out.

“You’re probably right,” he gives, running his fingers along Charlie’s arches. She smiles, giving him one of those indulgent looks.

“Of course I am. Now put your back into it, Mikey, I wanna feel this foot rub in my shoulders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

“I almost died today,” Johnny announces, slipping onto one of the kitchen stools and spinning around in a circle. Mike, trudging into the kitchen after him, is treated to a flashing glance of… _something_ in Jakes’ eyes before he forks himself up another mouthful of pasta, and glares mildly at Johnny.

“Oh?” he asks, sounding bored.

“Nah, I’m just jerking you around.” Johnny chuckles, and holds out his hands as Mike opens up the fridge. Making an educated guess, Mike tosses him a mini-bottle of orange juice before getting himself some water. “Mike totally thought I did, though. Ever since my little underwater adventure he’s been all anxious around me and shit. It’s sweet.”

Johnny winks. Mike shakes his head as he sips from his water, and lets him have his fun. His eyes are more focused on Jakes, anyway, who had gone back to eating his dinner after giving Johnny a thorough once-over, when he thought no one was looking. Johnny endeavours to get his attention back by kicking the leg of his stool; he succeeds. Jakes’ fork clatters into his plate.

“Johnny, as of six thirty this evening, I’ve been awake for fifty hours straight, and if you don’t let me relax and put nutrients in my body in peace before I crash I’ll literally kill you. No hyperbole. I will end your life. I’ll do it right here. On the kitchen floor.”

“Yooo, Jakes, what did I tell you about the NC-17 stuff while the kids are listening?” His voice drops to a concerned faux-whisper. “Mike’s _right there_.”

Jakes actually does look like he could commit murder right about then, so Mike takes that as his cue to exit stage right, slipping off to his room as their banter climbs a steady stair.

~~~

“Hope you’re still not thinking of doing anything stupid,” Briggs says, and it takes Mike a few moments to remember their conversation from a few weeks ago. He huffs, chuckling.

“Nah, no worries… I think they might already know.”

Briggs slaps him on the back, fitting his shades over his eyes as he hops into the jeep.

“God, I do love it when you use that brain.”

~~~

Mike hesitates before he knocks on Johnny’s door, and it’s just enough of a pause, apparently, for the door to open in his face. Shirtless and sleepy-eyed, Jakes blinks at him.

“Hey man,” Mike starts before he can tell him to hurry it up, which is what he himself would do if he felt or looked as tired as Jakes does. The two of them have been holed up in Johnny’s room for the past eight hours, and Mike already feels a little bad about cutting in. He hands over a slim file. “Paige wanted me to make sure that Johnny gets this. She got tired of waiting for him to come pick it up, and he has to read it for next Thursday, so...” 

Jakes doesn’t even look at the folder as he takes it. 

“Or scan it, or barcode read it, or dissolve it in his cereal and eat it, or whatever he does in place of actual reading.” It’s one of the prickliest sounding sentences Mike’s ever heard, but there’s a quick smile and nod at the end of it. “I’ll see that he gets it.”

“Cool.”

“And hey… thanks for coming to drop it off.”

The casual gratitude surprises him for a second, but Mike recovers, and turns up an easy grin as he turns to go.

“No problem. I knew you two were busy with your thing.”

Jakes curves his brows in an arch and closes the door, but not before Mike sees his small smile.


End file.
